


To Be A Hero

by dark_hour_shenanigans



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst, Gen, Persona 5 Spoilers, Philemon appears from nowhere, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9086080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_hour_shenanigans/pseuds/dark_hour_shenanigans
Summary: He was a hero, wasn't he?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit different from what I've posted so far, but I hope you enjoy!

As a child, little had provided as much comfort to Goro Akechi as Phoenix Featherman Ranger R. It was a welcome distraction from his home life. It him forget who he was, let him become just another little boy who liked watching sentai. Not a bastard, not a pathetic child trapped in the foster system, not a kid everyone avoided once they learned of his parentage. 

He idolized the heroes who would always save the day, enduring against all odds. He admired how they’d always give the bad guy a second chance, even if they didn’t deserve it. They were unquestionably good and they had the unfailing love and admiration of everyone around them. Who could ever hate such paragons of humanity?  


_If I were a hero, everyone would love me._

As he grew up, he retained his admiration for the seemingly flawless heroes. The childish aspiration to become a hero persisted well into his teenage years. While his facade as a detective served to garner him attention, he still craved the sort of hero-worship that resulted from taking down a notorious villain. 

Someone like Shidou Masayoshi.

Thus was the way Goro Akechi justified his actions as Shidou’s personal hitman. After all, those he was ordered to eliminate were, more often than not, villains themselves. Someone, somewhere, was glad they were gone. 

He tried not to think of his less deserving victims. 

It was all for the greater good, he reassured himself. So what if he killed a few innocents? Sometimes you had to break a few eggs to make an omelet. 

And Shidou was quite the omelet indeed. 

Although he still enjoyed watching Featherman (not that he would admit to it), he became more and more disillusioned with the show’s idea of heroism as he grew older. 

It’s not that simple, he growled as White Swallow forgave Black Condor with a smile and a laugh.  
That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen, he snarled as Blue Swan got back up (In the name of Justice!), despite his life-threatening injuries.  
That’s not possible, he whispered, as Pink Argus miraculously returned from the dead through the power of ‘friendship’. 

_The dead can’t come back to life.  
And as for friends…_

Akira Kurusu was the first person to truly bond with him. Originally, he’d pursued a friendship with the bespectacled boy on the grounds of their similar backgrounds. Both hated, unwanted, cast aside because of something out of their control. As time went on, his genuine interest in the younger teen turned to jealousy, which evolved into hate. 

He hated Akira for not letting himself be hindered by his bad reputation.  
He hated Akira for having as many friends as he did.  
He hated Akira for not being bitter and misanthropic, despite the injustice done to him.  
And, most of all, he hated Akira for being what Goro could never be. Someone seemingly perfect, someone who always knew the right thing to say, someone who held the love and admiration of countless people, someone who was willing to forgive the villain of all his crimes—

He hated Akira for being the perfect hero. 

His hatred, however, was almost completely balanced out by his admiration. However much he tried to hide it, Goro still admired those ‘perfect heroes’, those undefeatable protectors of justice. In his heart of hearts, Goro Akechi held a deep admiration and fondness for Akira Kurusu.

In his conscious mind, however, he despised Akira. He set himself up as the valiant hero, with Akira playing his opponent, the perfect rival. 

Two sides of the same coin.  
Light and Darkness.  
A prince and a thief. 

Although Goro had never fancied himself a prince, he had to admit the concept was appealing. The typical fairytale prince played a very similar role to his beloved heroes, after all. Still, he’d nearly laughed out loud when he first saw the disguise his subconsciousness had provided him with. 

A white and grey shirt with gold trimmings. Crisp, white pants, followed by matte black dress shoes that made a satisfying _clack_ with each step he took. Neutral grey gloves. Red and gold epaulettes on his shoulders. A crimson red half-cape. A sword made of pure light. 

Yes, he was the very definition of a prince. 

He, Goro Akechi, would be the knight in shining armor who delivered Japan from the clutches of the evil king, Shidou. He would show no mercy to those who stood in his path. He would use whatever means necessary to reach his goal, even if it meant staining his own hands with blood.

He was supposed to be the hero.  


_So how did it come to this?_

Goro Akechi lay dying in a pool of his own blood. The chill of the floor beneath him easily permeated his blood-soaked outfit. Pain lanced through his chest with each breath he took. All he could hear was the hum of the engine and the sound of his own labored breathing.

_How did it come to this?_

Distantly, he heard the sound of footsteps fade away. They’d left him. Left him to die.

_Not that surprising, really. Considering what I’ve done._

He laughed bitterly, a weak and pained sound that quickly dissolved into a fit of coughing. His heart fluttered dangerously as he gasped for breath. 

Had he really thought himself a prince? A _hero_? 

Goro thought back to the murders he’d committed, and wondered just how much blood was on his hands. He tried to remember the faces of his victims, but he couldn’t. However hard he tried, he couldn’t recall their names, either. Was that how he’d thought of them? Nameless, faceless people who’d only served as a means to an end? An end that could’ve been just as easily accomplished by a ragtag gang of thieves?  
He almost laughed again, but didn’t, certain the effort would sap what little strength he had left.  


Two and a half years of plans and murder and revenge.  
Two and a half years of his life, wasted.

All because he wasn’t content with merely killing his father. No, he wanted to make Shidou suffer. He wanted Shidou to realize exactly who killed him. And he wanted his father to acknowledge being outsmarted by his own son. 

_I really thought I was a hero, didn’t I?_

His heart suddenly slowed; the raw, primal fear of death flooded his veins with ice. Goro whimpered, terrified of his own helplessness. 

_Is this how my victims felt as they died?_

He offered up a silent apology to those he’d killed remorselessly in his quest for revenge. Not that it would do much good. This was karma, he was sure of it. Divine retribution for his crimes.

_In the end, my last victim turned out to be myself…_

Akira’s face suddenly appeared in his mind’s eye. He remembered the peaceful moments they’d shared together, that proud smile he flashed whenever Crow landed a critical hit or targeted a shadow’s weakness, how easy it was to be himself around the younger teen.

_That damn cat was right…_

Swallowing painfully, he pushed away Loki and pulled Robin Hood to the forefront of his mind, unwilling to live out his last moments with the Persona born from his hate. His clothes changed as he did so, the black and purple striped outfit transforming into the regal attire of a prince. If he was to die, he might as well die as one of the Phantom Thieves rather than Shidou’s hitman.

_I was a fool._

A blue butterfly appeared from nowhere, alighting on his hand. As he raised his hand to get a better look, it flew up, hovering over his prone body. A sudden sense of peace and tranquility washed over him, and Goro let his eyes drift shut. The slight rise and fall of his chest was the only sign of life. 

_An utter fool._

Time seemed to stop. He became acutely aware of his own, faltering, heartbeat. A few strands of light-brown hair shifted as the butterfly landed on his forehead. He hoped that Joker would keep his promise.

Goro Akechi took one last shuddering breath. 

_I was never the hero._


End file.
